The Prophecy of the Dragon Princess
by Stydia247
Summary: Back in 1766, when Marie-Jeanne Valet was searching for a way to defeat her brother Sebastian, the famed and feared Bête of Gevaudan, a seer told her of a millennium old prophecy foretelling of a powerful Dragon Princess, to give her guidance, courage. Little did Marie Jeanne know, the prophecy would be fulfilled...
1. Disclaimer and Extended Summary

Hey guys, Cate here,

Just a quick note to say that all plot in this story belongs to me, but all characters belong to the creators of Teen Wolf.

Cate/Stydia247 xox

 _Back in 1766, when Marie-Jeanne Valet was searching for a way to defeat her brother Sebastian, the famed and feared Bête of Gevaudan, a seer told her of a millennium old prophecy foretelling of a Dragon Princess, and the Dragon Prince, who screams and dragon fire could defeat the evil ones surrounding them, to give her guidance and courage. Little did the Marie Jeanne know, the prophecy true and would be fullfilled..._

 _Stiles has a secret._

 _Unbenknownst to the rest of the pack, he is indeed supernatural. He is a very powerful dragon of lightning, fire, water, and ice, but not just any dragon, the Prince of the dragon kingdom, Thelta._

 _Shunned by everyone in the pack except for Lydia and Allison, after he was possessed by the Nogitsune, killing Aiden with Allison avoiding death by a hair, the pack has finally decided to kick him out, Stiles accidentally revealing his powers in the process._

 _But after Lydia goes missing from Eichen where her mother has locked her up, Stiles, joined by Allison, go looking her. But Stiles has a sneaking suspicion that his parents have something to do with this, and that maybe, the famed Prophecy of the Dragon Princess isn't such a myth at all..._


	2. Chapter 1 - Maid of Gevaudan

A/N - The timeline of season 5 has been changed to fit the storyline, just for any of you confused people out there - Stydia247/Cate xox

This time please someone come and rescue me

 _\- SOS - Rihanna_

When Stiles finally trudged tiredly out of Beacon Hills High on the freezing November afternoon and towards his beloved jeep, he received a little bit of hope that the silent treatment he was getting from most of the pack was coming to a close.

But alas, no.

Trapped underneath his windshield wiper was a note written in the unmistakable curving hand of Lydia Martin.

Grabbing the note from the windshield, he quickly scanned its contents, opening the door, sitting down and turning the jeep's engine on at the same time.

 ** _Stiles,_**

 ** _Scott wants the rest of the pack to come to a meeting tonight at 8 at his house._**

 ** _I won't be there, my mum's taking me somewhere, but don't worry, Ally will._**

 ** _Just stick with her, and don't worry about the rest of the pack._**

 ** _Don't forget about movie night this Friday,_**

 ** _Lydia :)_**

 _Thank god for Ally and Lyds,_ Stiles thought to himself, as he laid the note down on the seat, and began to back out of the school parking lot, before hitting the gas and driving as fast as the speed limit allowed him to his house.

After the whole Nogitsune incident, which could have gone down a lot worse if Void had tried to access Stiles' dragon powers; luckily, being a fox and not a dragon, he couldn't; the pack had been shunning him, and ever so slowly, but not very subtly kicking him out of the pack he helped create. Scott and the pack knew it wasn't his fault he was possessed by Void, but Scott couldn't take the near death expierience of his ex-girlfriend Allison, and found some very deniable way of placing the blame squarely on Stiles, even though he knew Stiles' already blamed himself enough as it was.

At least Allison knew it wasn't his fault, and forgave him, or Stiles' didn't think he would ever have forgiven himself, but she and Lydia also knew something else the rest of the pack didn't.

Because when Lydia was in Stiles' mind, her night at the school dance when she was attacked by Peter wasn't the only thing she saw.

She saw the last thing the real Stiles ever did before he was possessed.

She saw what was about to happen to Malia, and how Stiles refused to let her die, how he allowed himself to be controlled and suffer for her sake, to stop her paying the consequences he, Allison and Scott went through to stop the Darach.

She saw a side of Stiles she hadn't really noticed until that year.

How willing he was to die for his friends, how he would refuse to let them suffer becuase of him.

She saw the hero hidden inside the sarcastic boy with the blue and black jeep and the freezing cold, shining silver aluminum baseball bat.

She saw the real Stiles.

So both best friends refused to shun Stiles like the rest of the pack had told them to. They weren't about to get bossed around by a teenage werewolf who was Stiles so-called brother and best friend.

They collected their bags and sat with Stiles in the cafeteria, and began to include him in their movie nights and outings since he didn't have Scott to hang out with on the weekends anymore.

Malia also knew about this, and used to sit with the small group until she went off in search of her mother, The Desert Wolf, and none of them had heard from her since.

Stiles shut the door of Roscoe with a slam, not looking forward to having to make an appearance later that evening at the pack meeting.

He knew there had to be a reason they invited him, they had stopped doing so months ago, especially since they now had Liam, Hayden and Mason to replace him, and he had a pretty good idea why.

Today was the day his so-called pack, finally gave him the boot and kicked him out.

By now, he had gotten used to being ignored by his former friends, he still had Lydia and Allison and they were now a very tight-knit little group, especially after the kiss he and the firey haired beauty had shared in the bathroom during a panic attack. Looks like his plan can shorten back down to five years after all.

 _So much for being brothers Scott,_ he thought harshly, finally allowing his black and blue tail to fall behind him, miserably sliding along the cold kitchen floor, as he searched the fridge for food he felt like eating.

He settled on some vegetable flavored noodles, seeing as he was going to stop off for some curly fries before the pack meeting.

He had a heart dropping feeling he was going to need some comfort food after the upcoming joyride of a pack meeting.

After eating, and leaving a healthy meal in the fridge and a note for his godfather, yes godfather, he peeled back the large cream living room rug and yanked opened the heavy metal trapdoor, disappearing into the darkness beneath him.

He opened his palm and thought about heat; the desert sun, the beach, the hotness of the California summers.

Light filled the once dark steel room from the flame flickering gently in his hand, and closing the door, he finally allowed the orangey purple glow to fill his irises, removing his many shirts, to hide the fact he had abs from the pack, to allow his large wings to burst from his back in an explosion of scaley blue and black.

Time for his daily dose of dragon training...

Fear blossomed inside Lydia's chest as she saw the old asylum, looming eerily on the hill, her mother's car drawing ever closer to it every second.

Her mother was taking her to Eichen House.

The place her banshee grandmother, Lorraine Martin, was murdered.

The place she and Stiles were also very nearly murdered and she was forced to listen to her grandmother's dying words.

She felt like screaming, and a sense of impending doom dropped onto her like a pile of heavy rocks, making her heart sink down to the bottom of her chest. She felt like she was being buried alive under the weight of the rocks.

This time there was no escape.

She was going to die here.

And no one would be able to rescue her this time.

Her mother reached the gates, rolled down the window and began to speak amicably with the receptionist on the other end, like she wasn't about to leave her daughter in the care of orderlies who were more psychotic than the patients.

The gates opened, and a doctor and a few orderlies with tasers poking frighteningly out of their belts, stepped out onto the front steps of the death house, the cries of its dead patients echoing and crying out to Lydia, warning her to stay away, to not go the same way they did.

She was being delivered, like a present, all gift wrapped in her favorite sweater, to death's door.

She got out of the car, against her own will, and stayed frozen, her feet firmly glued to the pavement next to the car, until her mother pushed her forward towards the waiting hands of the orderlies, who surrounded her as her mother began speaking to the doctor, who introduced himself as Doctor Valack.

 _Run, Ariel, run!_ She heard her grandmother scream, 1000 decibels loud in her head, wracking her brains, and she fell onto the cold, wet concrete, crying out in pain, only to see flashes of blue light coming from above towards her, causing her to scream and writhe, her banshee powers released, knocking the orderlies away from her as she collapsed into a small, shaking heap in front of Eichen House.

Her mother looked between her and Dr. Valack, horrified, and Lydia began to scream for her to get her away from Eichen House, but she simply stood there whilst her Lydia was heaved off the floor by more orderlies who had begun to gather on the front steps.

As they began to drag her inside, Lydia weakly began to claw at them screaming for her mother, for Allison, for Stiles to come to her rescue, to help her escape the Echo House. After all, Lydia Martin would never go down without a fight.

She had refused to ever set foot in the horrid prison of death and despair again. She would never be trapped inside its walls of mountain ash like Merideth, for the orderlies to gawk at her through the glass front of her cell like she was some animal in a cage at the zoo.

Her mother stood outside as she was yanked through the front door of the hell house, telling Lydia,

"Honey it's for the best. Dr. Valack can help you."

"I don't need help! I know who and what I am!"

"You're not my daughter anymore. You've become a monster sweetheart."

And with that, she saw one last glimpse of her mother walking to the car, leaving her trapped there, and the door clicked firmly shut behind them.

She began to scream.

Lydia's vision had begun to blur.

The orderlies had given her so many sedative injections that the room had begun to sway, and black spots had appeared before her eyes, her brain begining to shut down.

Dr. Valack's horrid, smirking face, that was for some reason filled with joy as the orderlies had flung Lydia painfully into her room, I mean prison, and laid her firmly down on the bed.

She heard clanking distantly in the background, the sound of metal on metal and suddenly Dr. Valack's cruel, albiet blurry face, came into her line of vision.

"So Lydia, your mother tells us you say you are a banshee."

She refused to reply, and at the same time, she felt so exhausted she physically couldn't.

"Good, very good, that means you can answer the question for me..." he began to mutter, cluttering around with something Lydia couldn't see.

She felt a sharp pain in her heart, a sinking feeling filling her bones, shaking her to the core.

She felt very afraid.

A whirring sound began to fill her ears. Like a drill.

Then she realised.

Stiles... Nogitsune... drills... procedures...

She was going to go through trepanation.

A sharp pain filled the side of her head, and she screamed, shrieking and wailing in pain, as the drill connected with her skull, loud enough, she was certain to have been heard across the other side of the world.

"Who is the Beast?" she heard Valack's muffled voice, but she still screamed and cried out, until she heard the glass door finally slam shut, and Valack's footsteps retreating away down the hall.

She was injured and unsafe, but at least she was alone and away from the demon staff of the echoing house atop the marshy, overgrown hill.

She felt her hot, sticky, wet blood begin to drip down the side of her head, and she whimpered in pain, the hole from the drill pounding, getting tiny electric shocks as shooting pains zapped across her head...

A blurry figure suddenly appeared in the room, blinding her already foggy vision. A soft French accent filled her eardrums, but she couldn't understand, the pain was blinding her, blocking out her senses, shutting down her body. She saw a cascade of chocolate curls, a white and blue dress, much like Belle's from Beauty and the Beast, in her pheripheral vision untill blackness overcame her vision, and she dove willingly, away from the pain and into the darkness...


	3. Chapter 2 - Broken

**A/N - thank you to all those who reviewed, I have taken your comments on board, and fixeguys grammatical mistakes you guys pointed out for me, I'm glad you like the story, that really brightened my day. The writing schedule for this book is currently every day or every other day.**

 **Until the next chapter,**

 **Stydia247/Cate xox**

* * *

And I tried to hold these secrets inside me,

My mind's like a deadly disease,

 _\- Control - Halsey_

* * *

Stiles was late.

Again.

Thanks to the basement's soundproof walls, he hasn't heard the phone when Ally called him to tell him they were all waiting for him.

So he had to skip the pitstop for curly fries and drive, well over the speed limit might I add, to Scott's, seeing as it was too light outside for him to fly without being noticed.

When he finally got to the front of Scott's house, all he could hear was muffled arguing, and he had to listen extremely closely just to hear what one voice was saying, the voices inside all merging together in a mind boggling, mish mash of shouts and cries.

There was one person he could clearly smell, the scents of her emotions overpoweringly strong.

Allison.

Scents of anger, frustration and sadness wafted towards him as they drifted lazily out of the house in invisible plumes, like pollution.

So he was right.

Everyone in that house, Allison excluded, was well prepared to kick him out, the sacrifice of a friend barely weighing on their minds. Allison seemed to be the only one in there defending him, her voice rising dangerously by the second as she fought with his best friend.

Time to make my appearance. I guess can't avoid it forever, he thought miserably as he climbed slowly out from the safety of his warm jeep and into the bitter cold.

* * *

"He's your best friend Scott!" she screamed at her alpha in frustration, her sharp eyes flashing dangerously back at his glowing blood red ones in her anger.

Rage overtook her, as Scott continued to shout his utterly ludicrous and uninformed side of the argument in her face.

His best friend. And Scott is going to kick him out like the 13 years of friendship meant absolutely nothing, as if throwing Stiles away like an overused, crumpled piece of paper wouldn't matter to anyone.

She could just picture the hurt look of betrayal on Stiles' face when he finally arrived and received the royal command from his majesty the almighty alpha Scott McCall, to get the hell out of his pack.

She and Lydia had been trying to convince the rest of the pack otherwise for weeks. It was rather awkward when Stiles had come round Lydia's for the trio's weekly movie night, and they had to pretend like they had heard absolutely nothing at all.

They didn't want Stiles to think they were in agreement with their dimwitted friends.

Being betrayed by most of your friends was too much for one person in one day.

Thank god Stiles wasn't supernatural, or he probably knew all about it by now. But at the same time, Stiles wasn't stupid, and had caught on the the fact that most of the pack was ignoring him.

The doorbell rang, and the crossfire that had broken out in the middle of the living room fell silent. They all knew who was at the door.

Stiles.

* * *

The door was opened by Isaac, who was trying to ignore Stiles like his life depended on it, and sighing loudly, he stepped back to allow Stiles to pass into the living room.

Everyone in the room was awkwardly silent, eyes trained on Stiles, watching his every move closely.

It was exasperating.

The emotions smelt much stronger now that he was in the presence of everybody, buzzing and crackling around him, some hitting him like a raging wind, knocking him off balance slightly.

Scott took a determined step towards him.

Stiles heard the entire pack inhale sharply, watching the interaction with bated breath.

Looking around at all his friends, bar Theo who Stiles still didn't trust, he saw a mixed display of emotion arrayed on everyone's faces. Allison had tears welling up in pools in her wood brown eyes and she tried to blink them back by staring at the light above Stiles' head, Liam and Kira looked apprehensive, Theo was smirking so hard in the corner of the room, that Stiles felt like slapping it off of both his two faces, the rest of the pack were still watching him stonefaced.

Suddenly he felt like the prey in a den full of predators.

Which was actually quite ironic seeing as he could probably take on all of them at once, and make it out alive and breathing. Even though he knew what was about to happen, he still had to play the role of pack's human lapdog.

"What's wrong with you guys? What happened, who's dead?!" his words falling out of his mouth faster that a speeding car.

"You're out of the pack." Scott's deadpan face stayed frozen, absolutely no emotion displayed across the his normally cute puppy face features. Allison couldn't hold her tears back anymore, and salty tears began to trickle thickly down her heart shaped face, dripping onto the carpet in barely audible soft thuds.

This was harder than he thought it would be, he felt abandoned and alone, like his heart had been torn to shreds, but he held back the tears, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry.

"OK." he said plainly catching everyone of guard, even Scott looked surprised and confused.

"OK, that's it? Just OK?" Isaac butted in, the first of all of them to regain his composure.

"I've known for weeks, you guys aren't really all that subtle about it y'know, you might has well have written 'we don't want you anymore' in bright pink sharpie on your foreheads" he snapped back at him sarcastically.

"Then we don't have to tell you. Stay away from us. All of us," Scott glared sharply at Ally, who in turn glared furiously back through her sheen of tears, "Don't get involved in the supernatural and we'll stay away from you."

Crack.

He felt the strong pack bond within him snap and crumble away to dust. And it hurt. Like hell.

"Well Scotty boy, I don't think I can do that." he spat bitterly, his best friends nickname vile in his mouth.

"Even if he does interfere, he won't be able to do much about it, and we can deal with him easily anyway." Ethan spoke up from the couch, pretending Stiles wasn't even there.

 _Like what are we all? Nine?_

He just scowled back at Ethan but didn't open his mouth. This wasn't worth blowing his cover.

"See? He knows."

Stiles clenched his fist into a tight ball to restrain himself from punching Ethan in the face. Hard.

"Just get out. Now." Scott muttered exasperatedly.

He turned to leave, but was nearly knocked over by a person who's waterfall of soft chocolate curls were currently cascading all over him, nearly knocking the air out of him she hugged him so hard.

* * *

Allison refused to let go of Stiles, she didn't want him to leave the pack, to the remorse of none of these assholes.

She wasn't going to let him leave.

And if he was she was going with him.

All of a sudden she was yanked roughly off of Stiles, landing not so gracefully on the floor, red alpha eyes in her face.

"Allison, enough!" Scott roared at her, blocking her view of her best friend, "He nearly killed you! Why are you hugging him? He's not pack and he needs to leave now!"

"Well maybe you don't know the whole story Scott, did that thought ever once cross your mind!" she screamed back at him, her curls springing up around her face, "If you're going to kick him out, then I'm going with him!" She sneaked a glance behind her at her weapon sitting on the couch, "Now move or I'll move you." She threatened darkly, eyes darkening.

Scott made no move of stepping away from her anytime soon, so she made a dart for her crossbow. She was just about to grab it, only to be pulled away and restrained by Isaac. She tried to escape his grip using the hunter training her father taught her, but Isaac used his werewolf powers, his grip tightening around her wrists making her yelp loudly in pain.

She looked straight at Stiles, his face was contorted with rage.

He was about to loose his shit.

But what happened next wasn't expected, not even by her.

Stiles' eyes turned a deep orangey purple, fangs protruded from his mouth, a guttural snarl escaping his throat...


	4. Chapter 3 - Castle on the Clouds

We are, we are,

We are monsters

 _Monsters - Ruelle_

* * *

Lydia awoke to a lowly lit cream room, much more welcoming than the dingy cell she was imprisoned in before. Her head was surrounded by a mass of pillows, the amount of them so large, her head very nearly submerged and disappeared into the pile when she moved, even slightly.

She sat up abruptly, highly confused, and the golden duvet and satin throw flew back, landing with considerable heaviness onto her knees. Lydia braced herself for the cold to hit her bare, outstretched legs, but it never came.

The circular room was surprisingly warm, from the bookshelves and wardrobe by the seemingly heavy mahogany door, to the expansive window matched with the white floral window seat that covered over a third of the room. And then she noticed a pretty white fireplace, that slightly matched the windowseat, and the fire that was roaring and crackling away, the wood being eaten up more and more every second by the hungry flames.

 _Where am I?_

She went to get up, the off-white carpet soft and fluffy against her bare feet, the minty nightdress swinging back and forth into her legs with the movement... _Wait... What?_

 _Why am I wearing a nightgown? What happened to my actual clothes?_

She looked down at the foreign material, only for her head to pang in pain, as if some heavy object had just crashed into her skull from a height. She let out a small, inaudible cry of pain, the bookshelves, windows and even, it seemed, the walls themselves quaking in its wake.

Bringing her hands up to her head, she felt a large wad of some sort of material that she assumed was a type of gauze laid firm, but somehow gentle on the back of her head. She fell back softly against the queen-sized bed, her knees to her chest as if to protect herself.

To protect herself from the unknown person or persons who had taken her to this unknown place.

Although, they had bandaged up her head from whatever horrid experiment she had been unwillingly made part of, and had rescued her from Eichen.

They couldn't be _all_ bad.

But what if they had taken her so they could abuse her powers too, by goading her into a false sense of security?

She wouldn't classify herself as dumb, she was really quite the opposite, but whatever this situation was, Lydia didn't like it.

She craned her head towards the window side of the room.

If she could see what's out there, then maybe can she find out how to escape, or even get help.

She wasn't about to try the door, and alert whoever lived here that she was awake and no longer in her bed fast asleep.

Pacing quickly across the floor, she gently unlatched the rather old-fashioned window and looked out.

She was met with sky and clouds. Wherever she was, she was too high up to get a good view of anything.

Looking down, all she saw was the building disappearing amongst the hazy cotton candy like pink clouds.

Twilight bathed the white outer walls of the building, gleaming across the occasional gold detailing, and to her left and right the building seemed to carry on forever until finally, she glimpsed the sky and the horizon, barely visible in the distance.

She daren't look up for fear that her head would begin to pound again and she would fall into the unending misty depths below her.

Shutting the window, Lydia retired defeatedly onto the window seat, observing how the minty green of the nightgown matched the flower leaves in the seat's fabric.

There was no escape. This building seemed as if it ran on for miles.

An unnatural breeze spread out abruptly around her, a sudden light, but noticeable, heaviness around her neck.

Looking down, she noticed a white silk scarf around her neck that hadn't been there before.

 _What?_

Lydia stared at it dazedly for a while, until light footsteps sounded down the hallway to her room, coming closer and closer towards the door with each passing second.

The scarf forgotten, she began to look frantically for an exit, any exit in the small room.

 _I need to get out of here._

Suddenly, Lydia felt like the scarf tighten up, like a snake coiling tighter and tighter around her throat, sucking all the oxygen out of her.

 _Choking_.

It felt like it was _choking_ her.

It was _choking_ her and shecouldn't breathe.

She felt _death_.

 _But it was not her own._

And then, the scarf around her neck disappeared, the tightness around her neck remaining, in fact, it increased, almost to Lydia's breaking point.

The sound of door handle turning and the door opening rang out in her ears, echoing around her frail frame in the otherwise silent room.

Lydia turned around sharply, the feeling disapparating as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

* * *

Stiles didn't have any other choice when a rather shocked Scott and Ethan threw themselves, rather clumsily towards him.

He used his powers.

They didn't even manage to reach him, a sudden strong wind blowing throughout the house pushed the forcefully back, long, sharp blades of ice impaling themselves through their shirts and into the wall, trapping them from attacking again.

Allison suddenly kicked a distracted Isaac hard in the leg, causing his grip to loosen as he tumbled to the ground, growling loudly in pain. She didn't hesitate to shoot him in the leg with her crossbow when Isaac attempted to grab her as she backed away from him, and made a run for the front door, which had been blown wide open by the freezing night air.

Stiles made a move to follow her, but was grabbed on the arm by Scott, who was now snarling angrily at him, red alpha eyes boring into his purple orange ones, a significantly large hole in his black shirt.

His ex-best friend seemed to be growing angrier by the second, and then - the question Stiles knew was coming:

"What are you?" the true alpha growled at him, completely infuriated.

Stiles' ombre eyes glinted with mischief, and he just smirked back at Scott, who had attempted to make him submit to him, "Now what's the fun in telling you? Not that it's any of your business anyway, It's not like I'm pack or anything, _right_?" he smiled at them all sarcastically, tone bitter and sharp.

Scott just gripped Stiles' pale arm tighter, claws sinking - what he thought might be painfully - into Stiles' skin, " _Tell me_." he demanded, blood red eyes glowing more intensely than before.

The sarcastic boy just rolled his eyes at this, Scott's claws only making his arm sting a little, "I suggest you let go of me. _Now_."

And when Scott didn't, a sickening snapping noise echoed through the living room, and all of a sudden Scott was rolling on his living room floor howling in pain and clutching his broken left arm, the remains of the pack gawping back and forth between their alpha and the open front door that both Stiles and Allison had disappeared through - and off into the night.


End file.
